


dave 'n busted

by fruitwhirl



Series: peraltiago tumblr prompts [11]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt, basically this is their DATE you are WELCOME, coda to 2.21 (det. dave majors), god i love det. dave majors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 22:52:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitwhirl/pseuds/fruitwhirl
Summary: And, really, Dave could listen to her ramble on like this for hours, he totally could.But the thing is, no matter how adorable she is when she worries her lip or scrunches her nose, he cannot get past Amy continuously bringing up her partner, Jake Peralta.Dave doesn’t think it’s a conscious act, on her part, but the guy's just constantly featured in her stories—sometimes as a passerby, but more often than not, he’s the one driving the weird, off-the-wall action—or she’ll just mention him in a passing comment, like when she’s talking about her new car and how she had to dump his powdered donuts out of the window because who in their right mind would eat powdered donuts they just found underneath their bed?





	dave 'n busted

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: i don't know why the fic's title is the way it is. it was my original title and i could not find anything better. 
> 
> as usual, this is relatively not proofread, because i have gotten very little sleep in the past month. so.

Dave is starting to regret asking Amy Santiago out for drinks.

Sure, she’s undeniably cute and whip-smart and, really, her face is supremely entertaining to watch, her expressions animated and eyes wide and twinkling as she recounts an “insane” cop story (really, it _is_ pretty crazy, but the part she considers wild is not the ten-block on-foot chase that includes jumping out of a three-story window—no, she finds the fact that her perp insisted on using “whom” during the arrest to be the most intriguing part of the entire anecdote).

And, really, he could listen to her ramble on like this for hours, he totally could.

But the thing is, no matter how adorable she is when she worries her lip or scrunches her nose, he cannot get past her continuously bringing up her partner, Jake Peralta.

Dave doesn’t think it’s a conscious act, on her part, but he’s just constantly featured in her stories—sometimes as a passerby, but more often than not, he’s the one _driving_ the weird, off-the-wall action—or she’ll just mention him in a passing comment, like when she’s talking about her new car and how she had to dump his powdered donuts out of the window because who in their right mind would eat powdered donuts they just found underneath their bed?

Idly, Dave wonders if Peralta was lying last night at the bar and there really _is_ something going on between them. He’d frankly been amused at their earlier banter, and the way they’d bicker like old friends, but then he’d catch how Peralta’s eyes would follow her when she’d leave, how his gaze would soften when she wasn’t looking, when he’d smile something warm at her dorky, slightly awkward behavior.

But Dave thinks that maybe, _maybe,_ they’re just both oblivious.

When she wraps up her story, giggling about something he’s sure relates to Peralta, he leans forward, hands on his knees, and asks, “So, how’d you meet Peralta, anyway?”

Amy blushes, tucks her hair behind both of her ears. She then proceeds to launch into the story of their first case, and he observes as she practically glows, even though she rolls her eyes when describing her partner’s antics. Like, _fuck,_ he’s a detective for God’s sake, and yeah he’s well-known for being badass, but he’s also intelligent. And has _eyes._

But, he can never be too sure, and he really does enjoy her company, even if she’s talking about another guy the entire time. Plus, he’s never really _had_ the experience of a girl not liking him, so he thinks he still has a pretty good chance with her.

“Amy?”

At his interruption, she jolts, slightly, then furrows her eyebrows, tilting her head to the side curiously. Dave takes this as his opportunity to continue with his question. “Are you and Peralta an item?”

Her mouth falls open, just a little, at this, and then she starts shaking her head furiously. “No, no. I mean, I thought—but no, we’re not. We’re just coworkers.” After a quick, frantic beat. “And friends. We are definitely just friends, and coworkers. Friends who work together.”

“Okay,” Dave hums, and he definitely doesn’t believe her.

She picks up on this, of course—worries her lip, drums the fingers of her right hand against her lap. “Why?”

Plastering on an easy smile, he leans back in his chair, quirks an eyebrow. Casually. “Just wondering, since I’ve really enjoyed our date, and would love to take you out again sometime.”

Amy starts at the word “date,” biting her lip in a sort of bemusement. “Date?”

It shocks him, just a bit, to hear someone sound _confused_ at the idea of being on a date with him. He’s never really experienced this particular scenario.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed, but I thought it was kind of obvious.”

Her entire face draws together in a sort of frown, and Dave thinks that she’s about to spiral into some kind of panic like before when he implied that she and Peralta were romantically attached, but then she just shakes her head slightly. “I’m sorry, I just don’t date cops. I had a messy break-up with a guy in the eight-two and I just don’t want to have a repeat of that.”

So that’s it, huh.

In an attempt to diffuse the now awkward situation, Dave smiles easily, and redirects the conversation to something she’s more comfortable with—her plans to achieve captaincy in the coming years. (Frankly, he thinks she’s going to make one badass captain.) Thus, it ends up being a rather pleasant night, and they part ways at her car with a firm handshake and an exchanging of kind words.

(The next morning, he runs into Peralta, who looks genuinely surprised when informed that Amy wasn’t interested in Dave.)

Eventually, Dave largely forgets about the two cops that are definitely into each other, until four years later, when he’s tackling a money laundering case that crosses over partially into the ninety-ninth precinct, and he has to pick up evidence from a few of the beat cops. He doesn’t even think about either detective, honestly, because he’s just popping into the third floor for a moment.

But then he sees a familiar sleek, black bun pass him and for some reason he just _knows_ it’s Amy, and he feels a small grin form on his lips when he calls out, “ _Santiago!”_

She turns, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and then she relaxes, recognition setting in, and a soft smile graces her face. “Detective Majors.”

As she comes closer, Dave realizes that she’s just as beautiful as ever, now in a traditional beat uniform, though when he looks a little harder, he realizes that she has the patches and stripes of a sergeant. “It’s been a while, huh.”

She looks a little ragged, but he doesn’t comment on it. Sometimes the job can be draining; he understands that better than most.

Instead, they exchange pleasantries for a while—he congratulates her on her promotion, she lauds him for his recent Medal of Valor (really, it was nothing—he just saved a couple kidnapped kids from a serial killer, nothing too big), and as they’re catching up, chatting amiably, he glances down (out of pure curiosity, of course) and notices the two silver bands sitting on the fourth finger of her left hand, and he can’t say that he’s surprised. The way that she rubs them lightly, every so often and in a practiced manner, suggests that she’s used to the weight of it, so she’s been married for at least a year (maybe two). And perhaps it isn’t his business, but he’s good at picking up on vibes (mostly), and for as careful a person as she seems to be, she likely wouldn’t get engaged without knowing the person for at least two to three years, and the New York wedding venue market is a nightmare, so they’d have to set a date for at _least_ nine months after the initial proposal.

So, Peralta.

Amy must have married Peralta.

(And thus, must have dismissed her original rule about dating cops.)

He doesn’t bring it up, instead bidding her farewell when she apologizes profusely as she has paperwork to finish before five. But Dave hangs around, for just a bit, making conversation with a few of the uniformed officers, when out of the corner of his eye, he sees a familiar man in a dark leather jacket and plaid shirt and tie approach the sergeant’s desk, place a soft hand on her shoulder, which she embraces by covering it with her own and resting her cheek against his touch. He can see the glint of silver on Peralta’s left hand, and the way she melts into him, and Dave grins.

He's almost glad that his date with Amy didn’t go so well.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know how you felt, and hit me up at [dmigod](http://dmigod.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


End file.
